Still In Love
by AViewerLikeMe
Summary: "The thing is. . .you're married to Emily." "That IS, what the thing is." But without the thing. . .what could have been? RnR, Lobster, TOW All the Kissing (Season 5)


_Disclaimer: I don't own anything_

**Still In Love**

"So. . ." she started, leaning against the back of the couch. "How are you holding up?"

He shrugged, not taking his eyes off the paper. "Well, she's sent the divorce papers over, so by today or tomorrow, I'm getting them to sign."

"Mmhmm," she nodded.

"I'm just want it to be over," he confessed, sighing. "I'm so tired of being the guy who can't make it work."

"You're _not _the guy who can't make anything work," she interjected, moving to the end of the couch, closer to him.

"Look at me, Rach, I've got two divorces under my-"

"Your first wife was a lesbian," she interjected again. "That wasn't your fault, that was _hers!" _

He snorted. "Yeah? And my second wife?"

She paused, scrambling for the right words. "W-well, uh-well that was kind of _me."_

He raised an eyebrow amusedly. "How was _that ' _kind of ' you?"

Choosing to hide her real reasons for flying to London, she replied, "Hello: you said _my _name. Wouldn't have happened if I didn't show up out of the blue!"

He set down his paper with a more serious expression. "Hey-I'm _glad _you showed up out of the blue-at _all. _It'd be wrong if you weren't there anyway."

A warmth bloomed in the bottom of her stomach. "Really?"

"Yeah! I mean, for all I know, I would have stayed married to a woman who I didn't even know! And besides," he added, lightly touching her leg with his foot, "you're like my best friend. . .I wanted you there."

She took note of how his voice trailed off at the end, how his head just sunk behind his newspaper. Monica's voice rang in her ears: _Leave it alone. Don't do it. I can't watch. _It was said with good intentions, but it was no longer strong enough to hold her tongue. With all the courage she could muster, she spoke up again.

"Hey, um. . .listen." She sat up as straight as she could. "I have-uh-I've got something that I really wanna tell you."

He looked up at her inquiringly .

"And you know, everyone has been telling me not to tell you, but I just-I think they're wrong, and I mean, I don't know what your reaction is gonna be, but at least I think I should try-"

"Rach," he cut in, smirking, "you're rambling."

She shook her head as if to rid her face of the pink flush growing on her cheeks.

"Oh-I'm sorry!"

"So come on," he insisted, putting his paper down again and leaning forward. "Tell me."

Her heart began to race, and she ran her tongue along the inside of her mouth to keep it from drying. "Okay," she breathed, "I'm just gonna go right out and say it."

With great effort, she looked him straight in the eye. "I. . .I'm still in love with you, Ross."

Two things happened at once. A heavy weight was lifted off her shoulders, and his face transformed into the face she saw three years ago, the day that he heard her drunken message that proved she had feelings for him too. A lost, confused, blindsided puppy's expression. This time, however, she didn't know what it meant. In this case, she saw less than a happy ending. She hadn't seen herself regretting her confession, but her heart now ached at the prospect of their ruined friendship. At least she could throw them both a bone and make this conversation as painless as possible from this moment on.

"Oh, Ross, listen. . .I don't want things to get weird or anything between us. I just, I felt like you need to know."

He nodded dazedly. "Yeah, no, I. . .I totally relate to that."

They chuckled uneasily together.

"How long?" he asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

She bit her lip. "I don't know. But I realized it when you told me you were marrying her." At his pointed silence, she continued. "I've been. . .searching for the guy who could live up to what I want in a partner. But every time I tried, it just brought me back to you being only one who ever could. And by the time I realized that, then-"

"Emily. Then Emily."

A hot wave of shame rushed over her skin, making it prickle. "Yeah. And I'll admit, that's why I didn't come to the wedding."

A long period of silence passed as Ross seemed to be pondering something. Then he cocked his head to side in recognition. "But you _did _come to the wedding. Why?"

Every fiber in her body screamed at her to hold back the truth, but it was clear that he knew the answer anyway; he was just waiting to see if she'd say it herself.

"I wanted to tell you then." Damn her voice for breaking. "I was gonna. But I couldn't. I saw you with her, in that church, with your suit on, and you looked so _happy." _The last word came out in a whisper. She stared intently at her hands. "I j-I couldn't do it. I want to see you happy. That's all I want." _Look at your hands, look at your hands, don't look up, don't look up. . ._

"Even if it wasn't with you."

"Yeah."

Another painstaking silence. People around them were talking and laughing, eating and drinking, without a care in the world. Meanwhile, one soul was baring itself to another, risking everything they'd built together since their breakup.

Eventually, she cleared her throat. "Hey, things aren't gonna be weird between us, are they? I mean, was that just the stupidest thing, me telling you?"

"No, no, no," he suddenly protested, snapping out of his stupor. "God, I'm glad you did! If nothing else, it's always _great _when someone tells you they love you."

_That's what I said! _she thought indignantly, but it didn't matter, because Monica had been right too; it hurt like hell to love someone who doesn't love you back. Suddenly, she needed to go. She was about to make up a flimsy excuse to escape when Ross grabbed both of her hands.

"But there's. . .something else," he said shyly, the hint of a smile dancing on his lips.

Rachel gaped wordlessly, afraid to jump to conclusions but too excited to stay neutral.

Ross stroked the skin of her knuckles and spoke clearly and slowly. "My marriage is over. I thought it was over when she filed. But the truth is, I've known it was over the second I asked her to marry me. I'm not saying I didn't love her at all, but suddenly everything was going so fast, and it-it felt like. . .I was taking us off the table."

Other than a sharp exhalation, she had no response.

He looked up at her with what seemed to be a great effort. "If you'd like to say something. . ."

"Oh! Um," she exclaimed, feeling flustered, "Sorry, I just-I-hah! Okay, uh. . .alright, so what. . .what you're saying is that you still-that _this," _she gestured between them with one hand, "was never off the table?

He shrugged nervously. "_I _thought it was. But I didn't-I _don't _want it to be."

With their hands clasped tightly together and the world bustling around them, they began to laugh, faintly at first, then louder and harder, with more mirth and joy than they'd ever laughed before. After so many missed opportunities, so much lost time, wasted on pettiness and grudges and cheap shots, they'd finally returned to the same place at the same time. Paolo, Julie, Mark, Chloe and Emily- they were simply victims to the mess that was Ross and Rachel. Only this last time, it had gone too far, way too far, and Emily had been more than heartbroken-she'd been humiliated. Neither one of them could afford playing dumb anymore; it was time to swallow pride and let love in.

And if Rachel could do it, so could Ross.

When their laughter trailed off, he swallowed and said gently, "So, um. . .would it be alright if I. . .asked you out sometime? Maybe?"

Her heart skipped a beat at the familiar question, sending her back to the giddiness of her first night in Monica's apartment.

"Yeah. I'd like that."

They grinned goofily at each other for a few moments more, until she checked her watch. "Ugh, dammit! I gotta go. I promised my boss I'd send her this report before we went to Atlantic City. I'm sorry," she added, peering guiltily at him through her long hair.

But it was a mark of how much he had grown that he simply smiled and said, "Don't be sorry. I'm proud of you. Go and get the job done, and I'll see you later."

Yes, this _was _going to work out fine.

"Oh, Ross, thank you for being so-_you_," she said tearfully, standing up with her arms outstretched. When he wrapped his own arms around her, she realized how much she'd missed this.

"No, thank _you _for. . ."

His voice faltered; he dipped his head in the curve of her neck, holding her tighter. When he spoke again, muffled by her skin, the adoration was overwhelming.

"Thank you."


End file.
